Madness
by MonsturrBonesxxx3
Summary: One more push could be the end of Bruce's insanity . . .


**Title:** Madness  
**Genre:** Can't think of one.  
**Pairing:** Joker/Batman  
**Rating:** PG-13, just because.  
**Summary:** One more push could be the end of Bruce's insanity . . .  
**Author's Note:** I wanted the quote: "Madness is like gravity", to be my inspiration. Feedback would be much appreciated. Oh, and during the second short story, you kind of have to guess at who Bruce is talking about - even though it's probably obvious.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman or its characters.

**i. Madness is like Gravity**

You can't hide the truth from me, no matter how hard you try. I've already seen it, already seen those small e_mo_tions flitter across your dark, storm rain eyes. They tell me things that you'd dare never tell to my face. All the real feelings that you deny, HA, you're so pa_th_etic . . . so . . . fa_sci_nating.

My favorite though, is the _ra_g_e_, boiling inside of you, clawing at its cage that you've locked it away in; twisting, curling, eating away at your insides. And sometimes it slips over the edge, and god when it does, o_oooooh_, is it the most spectacular thing I've ever seen. Like millions of different colored fireworks, that's what your rage reminds me of. Contained in a small package until someone, like _me_, shows you how much f_u_n it is to let it out. O_h_, and does it soar, does it _fly_, high in the sky! And when it bursts, it's beautiful, it's huge, and it's _dead_ly.

You're so foolish, so blind . . . so . . . intriguing. The only person I can trust is you, and isn't it funny?, because you could never trust me, but I, oh, I trust you so much and I don't quite know _why_. You're the only human who's survived my games, who is smart enough to challenge me and possibly win, who never lets me down - and because you've proven all of this to me, I guess, maybe, I don't kn_o_w . . . I've entrusted you to stop what I've be_come_.

Cause you're the only one who _can_, and is worthy enough to do so. And even though I've done this, you still can't bring yourself to finish the job. So it's totally beside me as to why I still even bo_th_er to keep trusting you, but I still do, and I hate myself even more for doing so; you and your self-righteousness.

It's only a matter of t_i_me, though, before the gravity shifts, and Batsy . . . . all it'll take, is a little _push_.

**ii. All it Takes**

Over the last week, I still question why I'm still sane. With all this madness _he_ makes, the lack of sleep I've been getting, the nightmares that come with the sleep I do get, and everything else piling on top of me . . . I've begun to question a lot of things.

He's been still for quite some time, and maybe he knows it keeps me on my toes, and that's why he does it. Maybe he knows every minute he's silent I grow paranoid, impatient, and maybe he knows it, and loves knowing that he drives me crazy. He certainly does love pushing me over the edge . . .

I've gained some new nervous ticks from this constant state of alertness I'm in. I tap my foot on the ground, my eyes are constantly shifting back and forth, always looking over my shoulder, waiting for something to happen . . . and I've even begun to . . . lick my lips, just a little too much. And wouldn't he love to know that he's rubbed off on me, even if it's nothing but small habits such as these.

In my sleep I'm still on the move, constantly chasing him, always . . . always . . .

Alfred is worried, asks me if I'm alright, always asking if I'm okay, if there's something wrong, and I myself have begun to wonder if I really am okay. Am I lying to him when I say that everything's alright? I must be kidding myself, because I know that nothing really is fine.

And wouldn't he love to know that I'm questioning my sanity at this very moment. Wouldn't he love to know I could fall over the edge of my wall at any given moment . . . and the only one who could save me would be the very man driving me insane.

Wouldn't he love to know?

**iii. Is a Little Push**

"Why don't you let go of your rules for once, and come play with the big boys?"

Bruce had been waiting impatiently for this all week. He felt somewhat sane at this moment, knowing just where the Joker was - pinned to a wall by his gloved black hand. It made him feel dominant. It made him feel good. It made the Joker smile harder and lick his lips, and out of impulse, Bruce did too. He ignored the short triumphant look glinting in the Joker's eyes as he caught the action Bruce made. It was time to do his job.

"Because I have morals, unlike you," the armor clad man growled, shoving the man in his grip harder against the brick wall behind them.

The pressure against the Joker's lungs only made him laugh harder, all though it came out in coughs and rasps of air in his throat. Everything stung; the night air hitting his fresh cuts, the tightness in his chest, the knee in his groin, it all hurt, and it was all too much. It was painful, but pain was just another emotion to him, and all emotions to him were just a mixed up blur, and with the pain came the undeniable pleasure of being in pain.

Does it make sense? Maybe not, but then again, when did he ever make sense? And when did he ever want to make sense? Making sense wasn't fun, it was boring, dull, and something everybody tried to do. He didn't want to be another everybody. He wanted to be his own body.

His vision was a little fuzzy, but he knew what he was staring into - those dark blue eyes the Batman owned. He smiled at them, an uncontrollable burst of giggles quenching in his stomach and releasing in a sharp pain on his throat and lungs. And as the pressure grew, it turned into a moan. A long drawled out moan that he couldn't control, and he probably wouldn't have tried to stop it either.

The cowl may hide his identity, but the Joker knew more than enough about his mammal friend to tell he was angry. "Break it. Break it, and I promise you won't regret it. Come on, Batsy, what's there to lose. You've already lost Harvey and Rachelle, what more is there?"

When there was no reply from the blue-eyed man he resorted to a child-like whine. Batsy always took the fun out of things with his seriousness. With something that resembled a pout on his face, he snarled at the man holding him, and began to struggle. "Break it!"

"Shut up," the other growled, forcing the brooding man deeper into the wall, "You sound like an immature brat."

A smile pulled at the scarred cheek bones, lifting up and spilling over the hollow edge, the brown eyes glittering happily at the anger showing from his favorite victim. "Come on, break it! Live life for once, Batsy! Do it!"

"Shut up!"

There goes the last bit of sanity, spilling to the floor, the cup nothing but an empty shell now. Yes, that means Batman had lost it. His fists began pounding into the white face, adding more red to the already crimson lips. It made the man under him look even more insane, but in the Joker's eyes, Bruce must've been like looking into a mirror.

And even though he was being beaten to a pulp, the Joker laughed like there would be no tomorrow. There was no end to his parade of cackles, driving Bruce even more off the edge. He applied one last kick in the ribs, the sound of bones cracking snapping him, himself, back into reality. His breathing was ragged as he stared down at the now slumped and still smiling man on the floor, the brown eyes struggling to look up at him since the man's head wouldn't obey with the weight on it.

"Finish me," he breathed, coughing out blood that was pooling in his throat. "Do it, Batsy."

And god did he want to finish it all. He wanted to make his head stop spinning, his heart stop racing, and his veins stop tingling inside of him with anticipation. Fists clenched beside him, he considered the offer, and his mind screamed to take the opportunity and stop the madness this man slumped against a wall ensued. But even though this man caused his heart so much pain, it calmly told him not to.

He stared with a sense of pity into those shimmering eyes, wanting death so badly, and just couldn't bring himself to do it. Turning away out of shame, he left, knowing when he got home the man would still haunt him either way: dead or alive.

"I won't be the one to kill you."

_All it takes is a little push.__  
_  
Batman wouldn't fall this time.


End file.
